


Reckless

by kaclydid



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Battle of Five Armies, Battle of Five Armies AU?, Fluff, Near Death, Other, hurt reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaclydid/pseuds/kaclydid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request from Tumblr. Being the youngest daughter to King Thranduil had some perks, and many other restrictions. When the battle starts, Thranduil orders you to stay home and wait for his and your brother's safe return. Being Thranduil's daughter, you disobey and follow your brother and father into battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless

 

You had been given strict orders to stay in Mirkwood until your father returned. Of course you weren’t going to listen to them; you rarely did. You may be the youngest child of King Thranduil, but you’d be damned if you’d let your brother and father run off and fight, leaving you behind to sit prettily in the gardens of your home.

You had been trained in combat. Growing up in a forest overrun by giant spiders would make anyone want to know some combat skills. Your skill with a bow and arrow hadn’t reached the level your brother, Legolas, was at, but you were still good. Preferring a sword, you handled the weapon with grace, just like your father.

To say the least, he’d be furious if he knew where you were right now.

Standing on the stone walkway, overlooking the fields between the Dwarves’ mountain home, and Dale, your heart stopped. The orcs had seemingly come out of nowhere, and although you had taken down many in the streets of Dale, they still kept coming.

The battle would rage on, and you had a feeling it would not end well. You had always known it wouldn’t end well, that’s why you had disobeyed and followed your father; you couldn't sit there and watch as your family went off to their deaths.

There was a small scraping sound behind you and you spun, sword glinting in the sunlight as the orc approached you. With just two quick swings and twists, the creature was dead before you, falling back to the ground below.

The men and women of Lake Town ran by, inadvertently running into a dead end, blocked on the open end of the street by two more, rather large, orcs.

You jumped from your post, landing lightly on one of the orc’s shoulders, using the momentum to bring him tumbling down with you as your legs wrapped around its neck, bringing him down and slicing his throat with one of the daggers you kept on your back. The second orc was taken care of by a flying arrow as it raised it’s weapon above his head. Turning, you saw a man from Lake Town turn down the road and continue on his way, bow in his hands.

“Go! Get somewhere safe!” you said as you turned back to the men and women in front of you who stood wide eyed as they looked up to you.

As they ran, you looked around the street, contemplating whether or not to get to safety. Engrossed in your thoughts, you hadn’t heard the approaching orc, and soon, you were laying flat on your back, head pounding from the blow. You tried to roll over, out of the line the orc’s axe was aimed on, but you couldn’t. Something was keeping you pinned.

Looking down as you deftly raised the sword to block the creature’s next blow, you noticed the rope you had stepped in, wrapped tightly around your shin, securing you under the much larger orc as he stood on the rope.

How stupid could you have been? you thought. Not paying attention to your surroundings was reckless, and one major reason your father did not want you coming here.

In the next moment, your arms gave way and the sword flew from your hands as a burning, sensation erupted in your abdomen. In pain, your head fell back, and the orc ran off, taking the dagger he had stabbed you with before chasing after a group of frightened women and children, leaving you lying there without another thought.

You stayed still, laying there in silence as tears burned in your eyes. You had been injured and there was no way to hide it from your father or brother upon returning home; if you returned home, that is.

Thranduil would be furious, lecturing you about your actions, not once saying any praise for your fighting. Shutting your eyes tight, you imagined the sleep like peace that might come, but it brought to mind the thought of your heartbroken father, causing you even more pain.

The familiar roaring of hoofbeats filled the air, making you open your eyes as you strained your neck to look around. The large elk of your father’s came into view, barreling down the street, your father sitting atop of it, sword clasped in his hand, beheading the orcs in his way. When he fell from the animal, the orcs that had surrounded him were no match, and soon, he was standing there, in full armor, gazing down the street at you. His eyebrows knitted together when he recognized your almost still form.

Your blonde hair was a stark contrast against the grey stone of Dale, and the shining sword sitting just out of reach was testament that you had raided the armory and disobeyed your orders.

“You foolish girl,” he hissed as he came up to you, kneeling beside you. “What have I told you?”

You smiled, pressing your hand against the wound in your abdomen, feeling the sticky blood as it seeped through your tunic. “Ada,” you started. “I couldn’t …”

You trailed off as his brows furrowed, icy blue gaze glaring at you. “You are reckless, Y/N,” he started. As you struggled to push yourself up on your elbows, you let out a ragged gasp and fell back, your father’s hands grasping you before your back hit the cobbles.

“I wanted to help,” you murmured, bowing your head.

“You would have been better help to me in the Wood,” he said, brushing back your hair as he cradled you. “Where you were safe.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was furious, and he had a right to be. Yes, his eyes were brimmed with tears, but he didn’t let them fall as he looked down to you. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, and closing your eyes, you didn’t see your father’s head bow as he finally let the tears fall.

You vaguely remember hearing words - a story - about the day you were born as you father scooped you into his arms. The words seemed jumbled as he spoke, voice low as he tried not to let emotion take over, and as you fell deeper into the darkness, his words of appreciation for his little princess reverberated in your ears.

* * *

  
  


Slowly, the light came back, and your eyes slowly opened. You were back home, the familiar twisting trees of the cavernous palace’s ceiling were above you. The soft, silky blankets beneath you were a comfort, as all you remembered was the rough, uneven cobbles of the street in Dale and your crying father.

“How is she?” the voice was familiar, and you recognized it immediately as your brother’s, but, no-one was in the room.

“She’s better. It will take some time, but she will eventually heal.”

The double doors of the large room opened, admitting a single, thin figure. Legolas looked ragged and tired as he walked in. His eyes lit up as he noticed you were awake, and he took a sigh of relief.

Turning to walk to the window, he looked out over the river flowing beneath the palace. “Father is unhappy with you,” he said, bowing his head.

“I imagined,” you mumbled, closing your eyes, wanting to melt into the mattress and sleep as tears formed in your eyes once again. “How long …?” you started to ask, but a jolt of pain from your abdomen had you shutting your mouth.

“One week,” Legolas answered, “And no, he hasn’t been to see you.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. You had been brought back from the brink of death, and yet your father hadn’t come to visit you, to make sure you were, in fact, all right.

You gulped down bile as it rose in your throat, and held back a sob.

Legolas continued, walking up to your bedside. “He will soon,” he started. “I came to see you before I left …” Your eyes widened as you looked up to him. As answer to your unspoken question, you older brother smiled. “I have a mission to partake in. You will be fine.”

You looked back up to him, silent sobs keeping you from speaking. After a moment, you reached out and touched your brother’s arm, calling his attention back to you. “I want to see you return safe, Leaf,” you murmured.

“And I’m glad you returned safe,” he nodded, patting your arm. “Get some rest. I’ll tell Ada to come see you.”

The moment the door closed behind him, it opened again, and your father stepped in, looking cross, but holding a small bundle of flowers in his hands. You smiled as you remembered your childhood days, when, whenever Legolas and you had gotten hurt running through the woods, your father would show up with a bundle of wildflowers for your bedside.

“I thought you were upset,” you murmured, closing your eyes as he walked to the bed.

“It was a stupid, reckless, idiotic thing to do,” he said, emphasising each word as he walked to the bedside, placing the flowers next to you. “But I am glad you are well.”

You smiled and nodded as he sat down, his hands brushing stray strands of your hair behind your pointed ear as you fell back to sleep, ignoring the pain that slowly returned to your abdomen.

  
  
  
  



End file.
